


You Get What You Give

by astromancer



Category: Glee
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Movie Night, Past Relationship(s), Teasing, no actual sex tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astromancer/pseuds/astromancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Puck is forced to watch Avatar by his nerd of a boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Get What You Give

**Author's Note:**

> you can blame my gf for this.

Puck hated this movie. He really did.

As much as he tried, he just could not understand the fascination toward blue people. Sure, that one blue chick was pretty hot, and she had a crazy accent which was also pretty hot, but other than that… well, that was more or less as far as his attention span had gotten him. Avatar’s nerd level was way beyond his capacities. Besides, why focus on an impossibly unattainable alien chick when he had a very attainable and equally hot boyfriend pressed up against him?

Not pressed up in the ways he would have liked, but still. The cuddling was nice.

Across the darkened living room—lit only by the TV which, for the past hour, had been pumping out an overload of blue, blue, and more blue—Santana looked to be in the same boat as he was. She rolled her eyes at him when their gaze met, quirking her lips in an I-can’t-believe-I-got-dragged-into-this-but-I’ll-deal-because-look-at-this-cute-girl-next-to-me sort of crooked smile. He pulled an equally meaningful, but not quite as elegant, face back at her; she just shrugged and snuggled deeper into Brittany’s side, tugging the blanket closer around both of them and going back to trying to find some interest in the film. Probably a gesture for him to try and do the same.

Yeah, right.

Puck had to admit he no longer missed what they once were. Breaking it off with Santana had actually turned into a pretty good thing on both of their ends (see: hot boyfriend). And with Sam and Brittany broken off too, well. Everything was sunshine and rainbows for everyone now. The theory had been effectively proven that just a little experimentation goes a long way.

Puck huffed and slumped downward, his head slipping from the backrest of the couch, down, right into Sam’s lap.

Oh.

This was better.

He now had a terrible sideways view of the TV, too, which made it even more impossible to focus on the movie.

Yes, this was much better.

“Dude, get your face off my crotch,” Sam whispered, eyes still glued to the screen despite the drastic change of position Puck decided to put himself in.

Puck hummed thoughtfully. “That’s not what you said last night.”

He heard Sam scoff above him, but otherwise did nothing to move Puck. Good. The guy’s crotch was damn comfy.

Sam did, however, tuck an arm under Puck’s head, cradling it in the crook of his elbow—and with that, forming a polite distance between Puck’s face and Sam’s own nether regions. Puck groaned at the loss, but soon felt another roaming hand slide down his side, past the blanket Puck had been hogging for the entire hour. The very same blanket he now wanted off of his body immediately, for his temperature rose with every inch those fingers trailed, slowly, agonizingly, down his (unfortunately clothed) abs.

Puck just barely stopped himself from arching his back into the touch.

The path of Sam’s fingers stopped just below his navel, where they thrummed teasingly at the waistband of Puck’s jeans, playing him as he would a guitar; but they travelled no further. Puck let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and peered up over his shoulder at Sam, whose attention was entirely and unshakably devoted to the still very blue screen.

Fucking tease.

Puck glanced over at the girls, who still seemed very enthralled (or at least, Brittany did) in the action unfolding on the TV, and thankfully not on the far more interesting action unfolding on the couch across from them (though he could have sworn he saw a flash of dark brown hair turning the other way as he looked their way).

Puck looked back up at Sam and pouted, hips pushing up minutely against Sam’s hand, desperate for any kind of friction and silently glad for the blanket’s naturally obscuring nature of things he would rather not be seen by others. Sam’s poker face broke when a smug smile tugged at the corner of his pretty lips, but his eyes still remained on the screen, and he refused to give Puck any kind of satisfaction.

Fucking _tease_.

Far too out of the movie for far too long to ever be able to bring himself back to it (and, frankly, not wanting to in the least), Puck instead resigned to watching Sam’s lips, imagining all the things the boy could do—and remembering all the things he had already done—with them.

But, as if someone had suddenly remembered that life had been paused and hurriedly smashed their finger down onto life’s play button, Puck’s attention quickly reeled back into reality when Sam actually had the audacity to run that small, wet, hot pink tongue over his lower lip, before catching the delicate skin of his lip between those adorable pointed canines of his.

_Fucking tease._

Puck hated this movie. He really did.

But he wasn’t about to let it ruin his chances of giving that boy exactly what was coming to him.


End file.
